I'm Sorry
by AdoAnnieCarnes
Summary: Post-MJ, Katniss's perspective regarding Peeta while they're "growing back together": "I'm sorry I'm made of splinters and poison and barbed wire. I'm sorry about your memories. I'm sorry some of them are real. I'm sorry that under the covers before the nightmares my broken bones don't know how to bend anywhere but into your arms. I'm sorry I'm not what you need."


**I got the idea for a poem like this after listening to Jeanann Verlee's poem called I'm Sorry (you guys should go look it up because it's awesome), so partial credit goes to her. This is everything Katniss is sorry for regarding Peeta post-MJ. This bit occurs when they're both still suffering and trying to "grow back together." So I'm not promising butterflies and rainbows here, folks. But enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. THG belongs to Suzanne Collins.**

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I'm sorry I don't sleep

I'm sorry I can't swallow the pills in the mornings

I'm sorry I won't wear my hair down

I'm sorry the leather's torn but I don't trust these new shoes

I don't trust the new house

I don't trust the new ashes

I don't trust the Games not to rip us apart again like layers of skin

and on bad mornings I don't trust my own fingernails because I've always been feral and now I'll never be whole

I'm sorry I'm a root when you deserve all the flowers in the meadow

I'm sorry I'm a firemutt

I'm sorry I burned too long and now I'm just maimed

I'm sorry you're hurting

I'm sorry I can't change

I'm sorry about the train, and the broken glass, and the children

all those children

we used to be the children

I'm sorry I can't give you children

I'm sorry I didn't know the bees were in the woods

I'm sorry I'm not good at saying something

I know it's not what you need

I know I'm not what you need

I'm sorry you're too nice to agree with me

I'm sorry what you need and what I need and what every sad excuse for a real, live, whole person here in this place needs is probably dead

is probably the ash under my fingernails

I don't trust my fingernails and I'm sorry about those scars

I'm sorry I'm not yours

I'm sorry the only people I can be sure I love are ghosts

I'm sorry I'm made of splinters and poison and barbed wire

I'm sorry about your memories

I'm sorry some of them are real

I'm sorry I kiss you too hard some nights

I'm sorry your body is warm and everything I own is cold

I'm sorry that under the covers before the mutts and the water and the eyes and the roses my broken bones don't know how to bend anywhere but into your arms

I'm sorry that to belong to you is as easy as breathing

Some days I can't breathe

I'm sorry I love you too hard

I'm sorry I love you too little

I'm sorry that flowers are pretty but roots are buried too deep and too thick to get through to

I'm sorry I trampled the flowers when I knew you worked hard to help them grow

I know they weren't roses but she's everywhere, Peeta

I'm sorry Gale showed up here

I'm sorry I told you I was going to buy flour when really I kissed him on the mouth and then begged him to shoot me and then left and then felt nothing at all because that's what we do, the two of us

I'm sorry he's gone because there's no room for home in a graveyard of both the dead and the living

I dreamt about Finnick, and Cato and Clove and Rue

I dreamt about Marvel

I dreamt about how I shot the arrow through his heart

I dreamt about his spear and the mutts and the raw meat under a husky sky demanding blood

and then I woke up and I cried until I was dehydrated because they all left and I'm still here

I'm sorry I scared you

I'm sorry I won't let you pull the dandelions from the garden even though they choke the primroses that were trying to grow again after I stomped on them

I'm sorry I don't know who I am

I am not Katniss Everdeen

Katniss Everdeen has a sister

I have no sister

I have patchwork skin and bald spots on my head where the hair won't grow and a boy living next door who bakes me bread and lets me rage

I'm sorry he won't leave

I'm sorry I wouldn't let him if he tried

I'm sorry that there are no guarantees

I'm sorry I can't know I won't break him one day but I take his bread anyway

On bad mornings I'm sorry we play this game of pills and suicide and dandelions

But there's always the dandelions

So we play.

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**I'm sorry this is too long. But I'd greatly appreciate some feedback, if you've got any! :)**


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